A Song of Ice, Fire, and Half-Ghosts
by harveykaiba
Summary: Youmu winds up in Westeros outside of Winterfell. Her journey will take her through the events of Game of Thrones and her allegiances will change. But will her loyalty to Yuyuko remain when she leaves?


**A/N: So another project is now on my plate. I've had this idea mulling around in my head and, upon finishing A Dance with Dragons, I resolved to write a crossover starring the gullible gardener in Westeros. I'm gonna try to stick with this one, and the rotation for updates will be Fantasy Kaleidoscope, Competence Ahoy, and this one. Incase you're wondering that is. Youmu will be nerfed a little bit, but there'll be a good reason for it explained in the story, now onto it.**

The first thing Youmu noticed was that it was _cold._ Her eyes slowly opened, well, one did due to her being on the soft cool grass. Immediately she jumped up, taking a look around her surroundings, and noticing that she seemed to be in a forest. The grass she was on was a dark green, and the trees were pine. Youmu took note, clearly not in Hakugyokurou, or in Gensokyo in general, anymore.

She unsheathed her katana and gripped it tightly in her left hand as she started walking through the forest. The gardener continued to take note of a few things that she was suddenly unable to do, flying was one of them, shooting danmaku bullets was another. Luckily, her other half had been following her ever since she arrived in this strange place. The girl grimaced, stepping in a wet patch of grass and dirtying her black shoes.

It was about noon she noticed, when the started detecting the presence of other people not far from her current position. Fortunately, the tree cover was thick enough to conceal her presence, even though she couldn't tell who they were either. Youmu attempted to get closer without revealing her presence when she heard an animalistic growl to the left of her, followed by a second and third one to her right. She took brief glances to the sides and saw three massive wolves approaching the band of people she heard close by her.

Suddenly, the wolves lunged forward, growling loudly as they bolted towards their targets. The humans below cried out in surprise at the sudden attack. The sound of drawn swords were heard, followed by yelps in pain from both the wolves and humans.

Youmu, intent on doing something about it, darted out of the woods she was hiding in and swung at the first mass of fur she found. Her swing aimed true, and it severed the head of one of the wolves just as it was about to bite down on the throat of a small boy who she estimated to be about the age of seven. The kid looked at the short half-ghost girl in shock as a spray of crimson fluid coated the pale face of the woman who saved her, and her near-snow white blade. The blood dripped heavily off the tip of her sword as she lunged towards the second massive wolf, sending the sword through the lower jaw of the beast and out through the top of its skull.

She took a step back, gripping her katana in both hands as more of the warm blood rolled down her exotic blade from the stabbing of the animal. Youmu looked around to find the third one lunging at a man in his thirties, though it was most likely going to end poorly for the wolf due to the massive great sword in the man's hands. Youmu looked to the ground next to the man, finding that his normal longsword was tossed aside, most likely from the initial attack. She took a moment to examine the blade from a distance, noting how different it was from her own Eastern styled sword, which lead her to the conclusion that she was somewhere West, most likely Europe.

Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell, was surprised to see three dire wolves leap out of the woods and attack him and his boys when they were attempting to leave the scene of a fourth wolf with her pups. He heard Bran yell a moment ago, dread filling his stomach as he feared the worst. Ned knew that Rob, Jon, and Theon would be on Bran in a moment's notice to assist him, but he didn't know what happened to the second wolf. The man took a leap to the side just as the third dire wolf lunged at him, making it overshoot him, but giving Ned enough time to swing the massive sword known as Ice down on the creature, cleaving it in half in one go. The beast made one last dying yelp before both halves clambered to the ground in a heap.

He took a deep breath and tried collecting himself. He looked at his longsword that was tossed to the ground by the third wolf nearly biting off his left hand. Ned went to retrieve the sword when it was picked up by the hilt by a newcomer. A girl with snow-white hair and deep blue sapphire eyes, pale skin, and strand clothing. She wore a skirt that ended at her knees, a short-sleeved shirt tucked into the skirt at the waist and a sort of green vest over the shirt. What was most odd about her was the floating white mass next to her, which nearly took him aback, a primal fear running down his spine as his sword was offered out to him.

Ned took another deep breath and slowly took his longsword back from the girl, who bowed in response. He glanced around him, blinking in surprise as he saw one wolf with its head missing, and one with a hole in its jaw and skull. Jon and Robb were rushing to him while Theon was picking bran up, the former was seemingly untouched.

"I am Ned Stark of Winterfell...did you help us?" Ned asked in a curious tone, while having a bit of edge behind it, indicating wariness in response to this girl.

The girl blinked in surprise before seeming to mutter something on her lips before responding fully, her Westorosi taking on a strange accent as she spoke in a calm, almost ghost-like voice, "Ah..yes, I did. I am Youmu Konpaku. I apologize if I startle or scare you and your party, I'm...not from around here."

Ned took a step back as Jon and Robb approached him, both of their swords pointed at the girl known as Youmu Konpaku. Youmu...such a strange name, it was foreign in his tongue, same with her last name.

Robb approached the girl slowly, sword still aimed at her, "Where have you come from, child?" He asked,"and why did you help us?"

Youmu stared at the group with wide, surprised eyes before responding, "Why...the Netherworld sir. I am no child, I am sixty-five years old."

Now Ned Stark was _really_ afraid. A girl who carried her ghost around with her, and lives in the great beyond? This was not supposed to be possible, one might make a case for the White Walkers still existing, but not women who walk around with souls outside their bodies.

If Robb were afraid, he didn't show it, instead, he spoke in a commanding tone, "Why did you help us?" He asked again.

"I helped you because you needed help. Stark-Sama's son was nearly killed by one of the beasts, and would have if I hadn't interfered."

Ned took a step forward, gently moving his son back behind him and nodded calmly, a look of thanks on his face, "Thank you my lady, we genuinely appreciate it. Would you be willing to ride back to Winterfell with us? You may feast and stay with us. Surely you're tired from your long journey to the world of the living."

Youmu took a contemplative glance at the men (and boy) before her, and decided that it was in her best interest to join up with them, "Very well, I would be honored to be your guest at your home Stark-Sama."

The honorific felt odd to him, it was different from honorifics he's heard even in the East. This girl was definitely odd, freakish if anything. She saved Bran and his sons and ward, he felt morally obligated to house her until she returned home...If she did that is. Ned lead the girl and his sons and ward back to the horses with Theon carrying the dire wolf pups they found. They hopped on the horses with Youmu in Ned's lap, earning a disgruntled groan from the short girl in particular. Nevertheless, the trip is rather uneventful, despite Ned teaching the girl in his lap about the Seven Kingdoms and Westeros.

The history lesson was surprising to her, clearly she wasn't in Europe at all, but a place like the Middle Ages of Europe, or at least that's what she gathered. Customs seemed similar, and so did the bladeswork. Upon arriving in Winterfell, she looked all around it, surprised at how great the walls were, the town inside it, and finally the castle in the center of town. She dismounts the horse, trying to get away from the prying eyes of the people staring at her.

Luckily Ned helped her, "This girl is under my protection, for she saved my boy Brandon. Treat her as you would any privileged guest under my guard," and with that, the group headed inside.

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Youmu sat on the bed of one of the large bedrooms she was granted to use by Eddard. She fell back on the bed, staring up at the tall ceiling with tiredness creeping into her body. She just had one of the largest meals she's had in a long while, and that was only at the behest of Lord Stark himself, along with the chiding of Bran and Jon. She's never felt so full in her life, even when Yuyuko and Yukari throw extravagant parties for many guests.

She kicks her shoes off and curls up on the bed after changing out of her clothes down to her sarashi wrap and bloomers. Slowly, as Youmu drifts to sleep, she contemplates her situation, wondering how or why she was sent here. She decided that she'll figure out eventually, or with her luck, she'll wind up back in her futon when she awakes tomorrow.

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 _Where am I...? Why can't I take my sword in my hands...?_

She tries flexing her fingers, but finds she cannot. She can look around though, and finds nothing but blood and death everywhere. Lazily, she stumbles through the snow, looking for a purpose. The girl looks down, and tilts her head curiously, seeing a crow with three eyes. At first she thinks it's the Hell Raven she's seen around before, but realizes this wasn't that girl.

The crow stares back at her before cawing loudly, the words ringing in her ear every time they echo into the snowy night, _"DEATH, DEATH!"_

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Youmu awakes with a startle, gasping loudly as she looks around the room. The fire had gone out long ago, though her clothes were neatly folded next to the bed, all clean and ready to be put on. She lets out a slow, shaky sigh as she gets out of bed and hastily gets dressed. She takes a look out the window, noting how it would seem to be about an hour before noon. Nodding to herself, she slips her swords onto her in their usual position and heads out of her room.

Two hours pass, and Youmu finds herself in the yard among the guards of Winterfell. Some give her wry smiles and glances, while others give her looks of fear, anger, or confusion. She couldn't blame them, someone as strange as her, in the midst of mortal, scared men, would cause a lot of emotions, many of them primal, to run through their minds while they decided what to do with her. Before any kind of situation could happen, Ser Rodrik, the master-at-arms of Winterfell, stepped in.

"My my, those blades of yours are rather exquisite my lady. Would you mind if I took a look at them?" The man asked with a soft smile.

Youmu shook her head, her hands to her sides, "My apologies Ser, but my blades are unable to be wielded by normal humans."

Rodrik raised an eyebrow, then looked at Youmu's ghost half, which still sent shivers down his spine. He sighed, waving his hand and nodding, "Aye, I getcha my lady," then he motioned to one of the younger guards over, "Boy!" He exclaimed, "see what you're made up and try to disarm her. You won't mind, right my lady?"

Youmu blinked in surprise at suddenly being drafted into a fight with a boy who could possibly be around eighteen. She sighed and drew her katana, earning a small squeak of surprised from the boy, "I don't see why not, it could be interested to try myself against a more Western style," with that, she took a couple steps back to allow the boy some distance.

He charged, faster than she initially expected, however, she was faster. Youmu took a step to the side and slapped the pommel of her hilt down on the back of the kid, sending him into the mud beneath the pair. He clambers back up, swinging his sword at her midsection, only to be blocked by the bright metal of the katana. Youmu slips her sword from the blade clash and swings it down against the blade, cutting clean through it in a shower of sparks.

Everyone froze, Youmu included, as the broken tip of the sword clambered to the ground. The boy stood motionless, looking like he just ruined his trousers, and a smell that permeated the air near him gave even more reason to believe such. Rodrik took a step forward, looking at Youmu's blade before taking the broken longsword from the boy's hands, frowning as he does.

"Well...I didn't expect that...and judging by the look on your face, my lady, you didn't either," he continued to look at the cut on the blade, noticing it was clean through. He frowns, muttering a swear under his breath, "A shame that this one was destroyed through...now we gotta forge another..."

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, except with more people approaching and talking to her, seeming to get along with some of the more eager guards, asking for tips about how her sword was so sharp.

After dinner she had been pulled aside by Eddard, who she'd come to respect and admire in terms of authority, "Youmu," Ned started, "the King, Robert Baratheon, is on his way here to visit us at Winterfell. He should be here soon, so I'm going to send Maester Luwin to your room where you'll learn more about our history and customs. That way you'll be more prepared when Robert comes," after he was done, Ned let out a tired sigh, irritated by something that he won't explain, most likely with the King coming.

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The lesson went by quickly and well into the late evening, and she learned a surprising amount of information of the rebellion that happened fourteen years ago. Youmu flopped down onto her bed tiredly after Luwin left, glad she's ready for sleep once again.

She disrobed as usual and curled up under the heavy blankets of the bed, sleep quickly taking her and allowing dreams to enter into her mind.

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She saw him fall to his knees after being stabbed by one of his closest companions, "Jon!" She cried out, rushing towards his side. She felt a stabbing pain in her right shoulder, following by her small body spinning around from the force of the crossbow quarrel in her shoulder. She tried righting herself, only to take another quarrel in her left side. She fell to the snow, her vision getting cloudy and dimming as she watched Jon fall to the snow as well. She glanced up at the traitors aiming crossbows at her then closed her eyes, submitting to the fate that was about to fall upon her.

 **A/N: And that's chapter one. I apologize if this is a bit all over the place, I'm trying to get Youmu to King's Landing as fast as I can, so expect some events to be rushed. Yes, Youmu is seeing predictions of the future, so I might have spoiled a little too much..let me know, R &R!**


End file.
